HAIR-NIVERSARY (PART 3): THE PHASES OF NEWAFRO (NEW-AFRO)

Hello hi,

I hope you enjoyed part 1 and 2 of this series. This is part 3 below. Enjoy :)

THE PHASES OF NEWAFRO

After my haircut and announcements, I went through various stages of change. First, I tried to adapt to my new routine which included quick showers, hair rubs and sometimes using a brush to give my short afro some curls. I was surprised that I did not missed my old hair as I thought I would. A part of me felt disloyal but I wondered if the feeling was real or whether I was just in denial. I sometimes wore hats, mostly to shield myself from the ever blazing sun but sometimes to add some spice to my look. Making up had never been my calling but every now and then, I made an effort to wear bright lipsticks and wore large earrings and accessories. Although I had not made any plans prior to my hair chop, I hoped to carry my hair the way it was for a minimum of three months before deciding on what next to do. Things were going smoothly and three months went by quickly. I was travelling around Europe when the third month came. By then, my hair had added more volume and needed a change – either a new hair cut or hairstyle to keep it looking tidy. I was sure I was going to cut it again but shortly after I returned home, it began to snow. Everyone warned me not to cut it, your brain would literally freeze, they told me. I believed them as I could already feel the cold air hanging around my head like a halo. So what was I to do? I did not know how to manage hair in general, not to talk about managing a short afro hair. Alas, God heard my prayers and sent me favours through several friends and most conveniently, someone living nearby.

She was a fellow African from a francophone country and even though she was not a hair dresser, she was eager to learn how to make hair. Of course, I was just as eager to let her practice on my hair and that was how our friendship evolved. I came by every other Sunday morning for her to play with my hair; she spoke English while I tried to speak French as she tried different hairstyles – bantu knots, cornrows, twists etc. It was a symbiotic relationship, maybe a little more commensalism since I benefited more from it; but at least it was not parasitic. Each time I returned for another hairdo, she expressed surprise at the rapid growth of my hair. “Wow, it ‘az really grown; so beautiful, so lucky”, she would way with a French accent. I wondered whether she would still consider my hair as beautiful and lucky in a few months, when it would begin to show its true colour.

“You better warn her; you know your hair can cut through a glass” some close friends of mine and my sister suggested. They wanted me to let my new francophone friend know that my hair was neither soft nor gentle; even though it looked deceptively dark and lovely.

“Why should I warn her? She would see it for herself.” I said. “Besides, what if my new hair grew out to be all nice and easy to touch?”

“How is that even possible?”  My sister argued, “As long as the hair is growing from the same scalp, it would grow the same way, unless you change your genes.”

I ignored her; only time would tell how my hair would grow.

And yes, time did tell – as much as I could recall, my hair grew exactly the same way as it had almost 20 years ago, that is the last time I had it short! It sprung like a rain forest, like trees with long spreading branches looking for space such that some fell over my ears. With each centimetre of growth came thicker curls, and with each curl came more tangle. Of course my new friend noticed it– “Ah, your ‘airs are growing up and they are growing wide too”, she exclaimed one day. I laughed and asked her if she still liked the texture, to which she affirmed. Then, I told her stories of my previous hair struggles – how people used to avoid helping me out because my hair was a lot, and how hairdressers used to try to charge me more money when they saw my hair. We both laughed.

Winter finally came to an end and it was time to reconsider cutting the hair. However, it had blossomed into a mid-sized afro and everyone thought it was a good idea to keep it growing, including my new friend. As long as she did not mind helping me out, I did not mind keeping it, I told her. And that was how my hair came to stay, for now at least. After some time, my new friend did not have as much time for my hair. Sometimes I wondered if she was avoiding my hair but I still managed somehow, mostly soliciting help from other friends. I did not want her to feel that I was taking too much advantage of her. I had tried hard to style my hair by myself but I found it challenging, my arms hurt badly whenever I tried and it was never neat. #Teamnatural was not easy and then slowly, I started to miss my old hair a bit. I thought of back then, when it was well relaxed and I could manage to make cornrows by myself without having to ask anyone. Then I realised that I was going through a new phase.

Yes, I had gone through several stages – from feeling unsure of whether to cut my hair, to feeling fly with my short hair, then feeling bored of it, then feeling excited at the rapid hair growth and now sometimes feeling confused. However, through all of these I tried not to complain. After all, I still had HAIR, one that many would kill to have!

Thank you for reading and have yourself a merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

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